少年派的奇幻漂流 Chapter 63
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Chapter 63 The Robertson family survived thirty-eight days at sea. Captain Bligh of the celebrated mutinous Bounty and his fellow castaways survived forty-seven days. Steven Callahan survived seventy-six. Owen Chase, whose account of the sinking of the whaling ship Essex by a whale inspired Herman Melville, survived eighty-three days at sea with two mates, interrupted by a one-week stay on an inhospitable island. The Bailey family survived 118 days. I have heard of a Korean merchant sailor named Poon, I believe, who survived the Pacific for 173 days in the 1950s. I survived 227 days. That's how long my trial lasted, over seven months. I kept myself busy. That was one key to my survival. On a lifeboat, even on a raft, there's always something that needs doing. An average day for me, if such a notion can be applied to a castaway, went like this: Sunrise to mid-morning: - wake up - prayers - breakfast for Richard Parker - general inspection of raft and lifeboat, with particular attention paid to all knots and ropes - tending of solar stills (wiping, inflating, topping off with water) - breakfast and inspection of food stores - fishing and preparing of fish if any caught (gutting, cleaning, hanging of strips of flesh on lines to cure in the sun) Mid-morning to late afternoon: - prayers - light lunch - rest and restful activities (writing in diary, examining of scabs and sores, upkeeping of equipment, puttering about locker, observation and study of Richard Parker, picking-at of turtle bones, etc.) Late afternoon to early evening: - prayers - fishing and preparing of fish - tending of curing strips of flesh (turning over, cutting away of putrid parts) - dinner preparations - dinner for self and Richard Parker Sunset: - general inspection of raft and lifeboat (knots and ropes again) - collecting and safekeeping of distillate from solar stills - storing of all foods and equipment arrangements for night (making of bed, safe storage on raft of flare, in case of ship, and rain catcher, in case of rain) - prayers Night: - fitful sleeping - prayers Mornings were usually better than late afternoons, when the emptiness of time tended to make itself felt. Any number of events affected this routine. Rainfall, at any time of the day or night, stopped all other business; for as long as it fell, I held up the rain catchers and was feverishly occupied storing their catch. A turtle's visit was another major disruption. And Richard Parker, of course, was a regular disturbance. Accommodating him was a priority I could not neglect for an instant. He didn't have much of a routine beyond eating, drinking and sleeping, but there were times when he stirred from his lethargy and rambled about his territory, making noises and being cranky. Thankfully, every time, the sun and the sea quickly tired him and he returned to beneath the tarpaulin, to lying on his side again, or flat on his stomach, his head on top of his crossed front legs. But there was more to my dealings with him than strict necessity. I also spent hours observing him because it was a distraction. A tiger is a fascinating animal at any time, and all the more so when it is your sole companion. At first, looking out for a ship was something I did all the time, compulsively. But after a few weeks, five or six, I stopped doing it nearly entirely. And I survived because I made a point of forgetting. My story started on a calendar day - July 2nd, 1977 - and ended on a calendar day - February 14th, 1978 - but in between there was no calendar. I did not count the days or the weeks or the months. Time is an illusion that only makes us pant. I survived because I forgot even the very notion of time. What I remember are events and encounters and routines, markers that emerged here and there from the ocean of time and imprinted themselves on my memory. The smell of spent hand-flare shells, and prayers at dawn, and the killing of turtles, and the biology of algae, for example. And many more. But I don't know if I can put them in order for you. My memories come in a jumble. 第六十三章 罗 伯逊一家在海上存活了38天。著名的参与叛乱的船只“邦蒂”号的布莱特船长和他的失事船员存活了47天。史蒂文·卡拉汉存活了76天。欧文·蔡斯和两位大 副在海上存活了83天，其中有一个星期是在一座荒无人烟的岛上度过的，他对“埃塞克斯”号捕鲸船被一条鲸鱼撞沉的叙述启发了赫尔曼·麦尔维尔。巴利一家存 活了1 1 8天。我听说50年代有一位叫卜的韩国商船船员在太平洋上存活了173天。 我存活了227天。我的磨难就持续了这么长时间，七个多月。 我让自己不停地忙碌。这是我能活下来的关键之一。在救生艇上，甚至在小筏子上，总是有事情需要去做。如果这样的观念对乘船失事的人有用的话，那么，我的平常的一天是这么度过的： 日出到上午： 醒来 祷告 给理查德·帕克喂早饭 对救生艇和小筏子做常规检查，尤其注意所有的绳结和缆绳 保养太阳能蒸馏器（擦拭，充气，重新加水） 吃早饭，检查食物储备 捕鱼，如果抓到鱼便加工鱼肉（取出内脏，清洗在绳子上，让太阳晒干） 上午到下午： 祷告 吃少量的午饭 休息和轻松的活动（写日记，检查痂和疮，保养工具，在锁柜里做些琐碎的事，观察研究理查德·帕克，在海龟骨头上剔肉，等等） 下午到傍晚： 祷告 捕鱼和加工鱼肉（给鱼肉条翻身，切去腐烂的部分） 准备晚饭 自己和理查德·帕克吃晚饭 日落： 对救生艇和小筏子做常规检查（再一次检查绳结和缆绳） 搜集和妥善保管太阳能蒸馏器里的蒸馏液 存放好所有食物和工具 准备过夜（铺床，在小筏子上安全存放照明弹，万一有船只经过时可以用上，安全存放接雨器，万一下雨可以用上） 夜晚： 断断续续的睡眠 祷告 早晨通常比下午好过，下午往往能让人感觉得到空闲的时间。 任何事件都会影响这样的惯例。如果下雨了，无论是在白天或黑夜的任何时候，所有其他事情都会停下来；只要雨在下，我就会举起接雨器，发疯般的忙于储备接到的雨水。 如 果海龟来造访，这是另一件打破惯例的重要事件。当然，理查德·帕克也不断地打扰我。为他提供膳宿是我的头等大事，一刻都不能忽略。除了吃喝和睡觉，他没有 什么生活规律，但是有时候，他会从昏睡中醒来，在自己的地盘上漫无目的地走来走去，发出各种声音，脾气很坏。幸运的是，每次阳光和大海很快便让他疲劳了， 他又回到了油布下面，侧身躺着，或者趴着，头枕在交叉的前腿上。 但是，我和他的交往并不仅仅是完全出于必要。我还花很长的时间观察他，因为这可以分散我的注意力。无论什么时候，老虎都是令人着迷的动物，当他是你的惟一伙伴时尤其如此。 刚开始的时候，我总是不由自主地寻找船只。但是几个星期以后，大约五六个星期吧，我便不再这么做了。 我 能活下来，还因为我打定主意要去忘记。我的故事在日历上的一天——1977年7月2日——开始，在日历上的一天——1978年2月14日——结束，但在这 期间没有日历。我不数天数，不数星期，也不数月份。时间是一种幻觉，只能让我们恐慌。我能活下来，因为我甚至忘记了时间概念本身。 我能记得的只有事件，偶遇和惯例，那些从时间的海洋里不时出现的在我脑海里留下深深印象的标记。例如用过的照明弹弹壳的气味，黎明时的祷告，杀海龟．海藻的生活现象。还有更多。但我不知道能否把它们理出一个头绪。我的记忆一片杂乱。 |
